


Dark Devotion

by onotherflights



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Multi, Nightclub, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-21 03:04:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: The elders said that half-bloods were dirty, that there were strains in them that made them unclean and blocked their powers. They were weak, docile things. Lower than blood bearers, to some. Half-bloods were worthless creatures.That didn’t explain why they tasted so damn good.{Yuri is the youngest vampire of the pureblood Nikiforov family as his teenage rebellion rounds its first century. In the midst of relentless training and family politics, he finds time to sneak off into the underground world of halfblood clubs where the pure elite of decades past mix with new, dirty blood. As tensions between the past and the future of all vampires rise, Yuri becomes enraptured by a halfblood DJ known only as nightshade. . .}





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Happy first day of Halloween Month! I’ll be updating this fic throughout this time so keep an extra eye out for updates...

There was something so natural about the sting of teeth puncturing skin.

Yuri licked at his fangs, tasting the savory-sweet venom dripping from them, and craned his head back to expose more of his neck. He had a pretty little half-blood in his lap, but it wasn’t her face he really cared about. While she was occupied with his neck, he took her hand. His nose grazed lightly against the soft skin of the inside of her wrist and then he replaced the touch with his lips for just a moment.

Then he let his teeth sink in.

There was the initial headrush, the one that still made him dizzy. Then the taste hit him like a slap, he flinched, and his eyes shut on their own accord.

The elders said that half-bloods were dirty, that there were strains in them that made them unclean and blocked their powers. They were weak, docile things. Lower than blood bearers, to some. To drink the blood of a pure vampire was the greatest pleasure a half-blood could ever hope for in their miserable existence before they warped into feral ruin. Half-bloods were worthless creatures.

That didn’t explain why they tasted so damn good.

Yuri could feel the ribbons of pleasure curling between his veins, the warm slick on his tongue as he took more and more.

He opened his emerald eyes and gazed lazily around the den. The lights were low and dark, a red pulse that emitted as much from the ceiling as it did the speakers. It was crowded, people passing by the couches against the wall with varying levels of interest. He was pure, so he had gotten used to an audience. There was always someone watching him, touching him. His eyes moved to only one, as if he was programmed to track him.

He didn’t know his real name, only his stage name. He was stepping down from the DJ booth, one of his crew going over to him instantly with a full glass of belladonna wine, careful not to spill. The assistant whispered in his ear before they passed by, and his eyes moved to lock onto Yuri’s.

_Nightshade._

He raised his glass of belladonna just slightly towards Yuri, almost as if in subtle toast, and brought it to his lips.

_Goodnight, let us feed._


	2. Chapter the First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if the thought "hey, this is kinda fucked up" crosses your mind while reading this..... yeah. halloween month continues! 
> 
> TW; this chapter contains quite a lot of blood and some cutting.... please be careful pals.

The inside of his coffin was engraved with a garden. 

The lining was a plush green velvet and he could run his fingers over the carvings and recite the flowers by memory, even in the dark. Queen anne’s lace,  Chrysanthemums,  larkspur, amaranthus, nightshade. . . among others. 

_ Nightshade. _

He shook his thoughts away and sighed. He gathered the will to finally push the lid aside, setting it down carefully beside his resting place. He hadn’t been sleeping much at all, and it would show in his training. Hopefully, he would be able to convince Victor to let him call it an early night. He trudged toward the dining room with heavy feet.

The dining hall was the most ironic and well-visited room in the entire estate. It had been a longstanding tradition, breakfast was really the only time the family gathered together. The room was forcibly warmed by a fireplace and dark furnishings sat around the massive white marble table in the center of the room. 

Most of the family was already there, and Yuri pulled up his black hoodie and slid into the seat next to Mila quietly. He wasn’t even hungry, still sated from a few hours before, but he had to pretend. He could get away with being cold during breakfast, but missing it altogether? It would be a clan-wide state of emergency, if Victor noticed. 

“You had fun today,” Mila observed instantly, her ready fangs gleaming as she smirked, “did you ask her name before you brought her to the den?” 

“She was already in the den,” Yuri shot back, but his lip curled in spades. “The eager ones always meet you there.” 

Not that Mila would know. Her tastes were singular in one aspect; she loved mortals. She always fell for the worst of them. 

The bell rang, and Mila instantly looked towards the curtains. They slowly pulled aside, revealing their daily flesh. 

Sara, her blood bearer, went to her instantly, sitting on the arm of Mila’s chair obediently, her dark hair already swept to one side. She smiled shyly at Mila, who brushed pale fingers down her arm. Sara shivered.

Yuri rolled his eyes, leaned back in his chair. His blood bearer came to him slowly, timid legs carrying him. He was new, Yuri could sense that instantly. It was probably his first time, so it was good that Yuri wasn’t hungry that night. He would take it easy on the poor little human. 

He sent out a calming energy, and the blood bearer drifted to him, sat gingerly on his lap. Yuri gave the young man a half-hearted smile, stroked his cheek tiredly. He was pretty for a mortal, but he had no edge to him. There was nothing so mysterious about him, nothing so poisonous. 

Yuri flashed back to hours ago, and he could flash back to a hundred times before then. Sneaking out of his coffin to go to the underground mixed blood clubs had been a part of his routine for fifty, maybe one hundred or so years. Only recently had he been seeing them, the eyes that kept him going back to one particular club almost every day, when he was meant to be meditating his dark energy or something. 

He pushed the thought away and pushed the sharp ends of his teeth into the mortal’s neck, the human slack and plaint in his hold, totally relaxed. 

When he stopped a few moments later, the human looked at him with glassy, dilated eyes.

“Do you not want any more, sir?” 

Yuri felt a twist inside of him. He very nearly flinched. The taste of mortal blood had a fresh, healthy quality. It was sustenance, he needed it. Craving it was another matter entirely. 

“No,” he said gently, swiping his tongue against the puncture marks to seal them, “that will be all. Thank you.” 

The mortal slid off his lap, confused and flushed. It was ironic, after the first time they always wanted more taken from them. 

Yuri wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie, leaning back lazily. He watched Mila feed, blood running grotesquely down Sara’s neck into the dip of her shirt, blooming red onto the white fabric that covered her heart. The dark haired girl hummed softly in pleasure, one hand buried in Mila’s hair. 

Lilia entered the room and sat a few chairs away. She grimaced in disgust at Mila’s display, the audacity to have a mortal touching a vampire with affection, as if they were equal.

“Don’t play with your food, Mila,” Lilia commented dryly. She snapped her fingers and a blood bearer rushed over, offering her wrist. It was slit instantly, Lilia holding an empty glass underneath it. When it was filled to her satisfaction, she dropped the human’s wrist, shooing her away as if her very presence was a bother. Another vampire in the family took pity on the bearer and sealed her wound before sending her off. 

“I can play with her even more later,” Mila was saying in a low voice to Sara, who giggled in response. Her wound sealed with a kiss, Sara hopped off the chair and went back out through the curtain that led to the bearer’s wing. 

Lilia didn’t try to hide her glare, and Yuri stifled a laugh as Mila licked her lips and fingers, making a show of it. The only reason she could act like that was because she was one of the oldest in the family, though the appearance of being forever frozen at eighteen didn’t let on to her eight hundred seventy years. Yuri was the baby of the family, but he was Mila’s favorite. That was usually how it went in the families. There were the traditionalists, and then there were the ones who took the gift of immortality seriously. They used it to live as un-seriously as possible. 

When Victor arrived, everyone at the table briefly bowed their heads until he sat down in the first chair at the head of the table. Yuuri followed in a moment later, but no one bowed for him. In the two hundred years since his creation, no one had.

Polite conversation resumed and humans flitt _ e _ d in and out, coming from the bearer’s wing with flushed cheeks and leaving with carefully made steps. Sometimes, when they weren’t accustomed to their masters or that vampire had a particularly high appetite, they would faint. Everyone, immortals and mortals alike, would just stare at the body on the floor until it was taken away. No one thought too much about the bodies that never came back the next morning. 

While the ritual began whenever the first vampire awoke from their dark sleep, and usually it was the oldies, it did not end until Victor left. Sometimes he was angry with them or wanted to punish a single vampire, and they’d have to wait for days until finally he set them free again. Once, it had been an entire year. No one dared to fight against it, that was just the way things were done in the family. 

Even when he wasn’t kept, he was still questioned. He was the baby, after all. He resented it supremely. 

“Where were you all day, Yuri?” Victor asked as they stood from the table. Mila shot him a questioning look, as if to ask if she should stay as backup. He subtly shook his head and she walked away, off to the mortal den to engage in more debauchery. 

Yuri sighed and turned to Victor, arms crossed over his chest. 

“In my coffin,” he answered simply, unwavering. 

Victor began circling him, as if seeing all of him would give him a conclusive answer. Yuri was saved by Yuuri, again. The young half-blood walked over to them and calmly placed his hand on Victor’s shoulder. As if moved by an unseen force, Victor’s attention moved away from Yuri. Instead, he took a hold of the hand that had touched him and brought it to his lips, a cold and feather-light kiss. Yuri used this distraction to slowly back away, hoping to retreat back to his room. 

“Petit frère,” Victor addressed him even though his head was turned, “be careful of where you choose to wander when the sun is awake.” 

_ Little brother _ . Yuri had always hated that. Maybe when he rounded two hundred years he’d stop being belittled. Still, he had enough years to push back. 

He raised a sculpted brow in challenge, “Why would you suspect me of being out of my coffin if you had never spent time outside of your own?” 

There was no reply, just the ghost of a laugh and a passing breeze. Victor thought he knew everything just because he was literally ancient. When Yuri turned to tell him just that, he was only half surprised to see that Victor and his consort had vanished into the air. 

At least that left him free for the night. He didn’t need to train every night. It wasn’t like he was going to run out of time. 

It also meant he could see him again. Maybe tonight, the distance between them would be one foot closer. Maybe he would find out his real name, instead of the name he was known by.

It was the name whispered on hundreds of ruby lips that hid fangs behind them, all the young immortals in the city knew it. It was the name that flashed in scripted neon letters behind the DJ booth in the biggest halfblood club in the tunnel. It was the first ingredient listed in the belladonna wine that flowed from glass flutes down to the floor of the clubs until it looked like the dancefloor had spilled blood. 

It was the name that Yuri let slip through his lips when he was locked into his coffin for the night with no one but the flowers to judge his misdeeds.

_ Nightshade. _


End file.
